


8-Bit

by blue_crow



Category: Tron (1982)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, One-Shot, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-15
Updated: 2011-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-15 16:30:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_crow/pseuds/blue_crow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Against the Tron arcade machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	8-Bit

Flynn ghosts his hand up the joystick, teasing his thumb over the trigger button, and Alan's jaw drops.

"That what you wanted to show me?" he murmurs against Flynn's neck, and he can feel that smirk twist on his lover's lips.

"Yeah. This TRON game is gonna change everything. Get my belt, huh?"

Alan complies, undoing his belt, pushing his jeans down, and then he can't help himself, groping his ass and then noticing- Flynn's prepped himself, he's slick and Alan can't help but slide a finger into him, admiring his foresight.

"So, I'm gonna show you around," Flynn says, around a moan. "Around the grid. And you're gonna fuck me." He takes two circles out of his jacket pocket as he sheds it, and his teeshirt right after. A quarter, and a condom.

"Flynn-" Alan starts, but he knows the arcade is closed and locked for the night, and he can't help himself as Flynn bends over and twists, licking the joystick. The logic center of his brain shuts off and he can't get his pants undone fast enough, and he fumbles with the wrapper.

"I'm gonna play single player light cycles. User difficulty. And you're not gonna come until I'm done." Flynn straightens up a little, but stays slumped forward a little, at enough of an angle that Alan can push right in once he's ready. He's as tight as ever, and once Alan is inside him, Flynn presses the quarter to the slot, and he's playing.

Alan keeps a steady pace for him, not cruel enough to distract him more than he has to, and Flynn's well-trained hand works the joystick like that's what it was made to do. He feels the same thrill in his lover's tensed body as he does when he's on the back of his motorcycle, arms around his waist. Flynn rocks his hips into Alan's like he's riding him, like the motion helps him focus.

He gasps in pleasure as he executes a particularly tricky turn, and tenses around Alan, like he's hoping to defeat both his red opponent and his lover at once. Alan retaliates by reaching in to stroke Flynn's cock, and he whimpers in protest. "'s not fair."

"Sure is," Alan teases, kissing his neck and keeping time with Flynn's quick turns with his own strokes of his cock, until Flynn is turning faster and faster to keep his hand moving and as he shudders and comes, the red line slams into the blue line.

Flynn rests his forehead against the arcade cabinet as Alan keeps going, fucking him into it. Flynn's hands clutch the sides of the box, while Alan's hold his hips steady, using him, until he's satisfied, coming with a low moan.

Flynn regains his senses long enough to put his initials in. He's beaten the machine's default high score.


End file.
